TARDIS's Memoirs
by greysky3
Summary: The TARDIS has seen too much. If a machine could be scarred for life, then this one would win First Place in the Scarred Fair in Scarredland, Scardania. Can she really recover from Rose blasting music in the middle of the night, terrible singing, horrid romantic lines, and batter dripping into her grating? String of one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor woke up to a horrible screeching sound, followed by loud pulsations of some sort. Possibilities swirled through his mind: a TARDIS alert? Some kind of outer threat?

He hurried out of his bed and bumped his head on one of his new inventions, a departiculator, which in his own words "made stuff turn to confetti then back again." "Oww…" he whined, before starting to curse in Gallifreyan. If the TARDIS had eyes, she would have rolled them. But she didn't, another fact that constantly made her want to sigh, which in turn reminded her she couldn't do that either. She resorted to sending her emotion of impatience to the Doctor's mind.

"Yes, right, sorry," he said to no one in particular, and rubbing his head, he left his room.

He yawned, and began to talk to himself.

"Right, so we're still in the vortex, so it couldn't be an outside threat. No TARDIS malfunctions, so maybe an auxiliary alarm?" He winced when he heard the sound again.

It took him a while to work out that it was coming from a separate source from the inside. The TARDIS thought it took him a ridiculously long time to work that out, compared to how fast she'd done it. But, well, she was a TARDIS.

The TARDIS knew exactly at which moment he figured out the noise was coming from Rose's room, because that was when the Doctor yelped her name and started running.

The TARDIS chuckled, a low, rumbling sound echoing from the engines. The Doctor finally wrenched Rose's door open.

"Wait… Are you singing along to the alarm?" he asked, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

Rose clicked her speaker off. "Alarm? It's music," she said.

"But… but… the pulsations!"

"The beat."

"The wailing!"

"The _singing_."

"The shrill, high pitched, rotor noises!"

"Guitars!" said Rose, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Wait, why are you listening to music in the middle of the night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"What time is it?"

"What kind of question is that?" Rose demanded. "Do you mean, how long have we been asleep? What time it is where we last were? What time it will be if we landed just now?"

This time it was two hands he ran through his hair, and the TARDIS did him a favor and teleported him out of her room. The music resumed for a second, before stopping completely.

The Doctor knew, telepathically, that Rose's room had been soundproofed. "Thanks, old girl," he said, patting her on one of her walls. He stifled a yawn and made his way to his room. The TARDIS decided to be nice this time and not switch his room with the pool.

That had been one hell of a scream last time.


	2. Chapter 2

The Donna-human looked funny in the Doctor's clothes.

Ever since he had refused her shopping trip idea in future Earth, claiming it would cause a rift in time and lock her into an alternate universe if she herself started fashions meant to be worn only later, Donna had one thing in mind: disobeying him and his logical reasoning for that shopping trip.

People expect women to cry, faint, or beg. Not Donna. She'd take matters into her own hands, whether she needed to or not.

The TARDIS saw that in the Donna-human's mind. She liked this pink and orange human. That was why the TARDIS decided to let the Donna-human play her game.

Donna was wearing the Doctor's blue suit, since he was wearing his brown one, as she walked into the console room. She had no idea how to fly the TARDIS, so she assumed her best bet was to impersonate the irritating Time Lord that was in the library tinkering, making some kind of machine to cure all ailments or something equally irrelevant.

She was going to ask the TARDIS to take her shopping.

"Weeelll," Donna drawled. "Since the coordinates of the Egg Beater Constellation number one are overshadowed by the proclamation, and the flux of, er, suspension is unstabilized, TARDIS, will you take me to a 22nd century shopping mall?"

There was silence, then the unmistakable sound of the engines whirring to life. She punched the air, then remembering she was impersonating the Doctor, lowered her voice an octave and exclaimed: "Allons-y!"

Donna was quite confident the TARDIS couldn't see.

The TARDIS was quite confident the Donna-human wasn't as smart as she'd thought at first.

Donna opened the doors, waiting to see the 22nd century in all its shopping glory, but she only saw a lone figure surrounded by books. She blinked, and saw it was the Doctor carefully cutting wires on some kind of contraption. He looked up, and saw her carrying empty canvas bags and a credit card.

"What're you doing?" he asked her, looking back down at his lump of wires.

"Just looking for the… the spa room," Donna invented.

"Down the hall, to the left, another left, the hall with vines growing on it, right, left, right, then down the slide," he said, not looking up.

"Thanks," she said, stepping backwards, unsure of how he would react once he realized she was trying to fly the TARDIS on her own.

"Wait!" he said. Donna's breath caught. "Why do you need those bags?" he asked suspiciously.

"To carry my bathrobe," she said, glad for that last bit of cleverness. The Doctor nodded and once again looked down. Donna let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and tried to edge away.

"Wait!" he said again. "Why are you wearing my clothes?"

Damn.


End file.
